Friends
by SpearmintJelly
Summary: The next day, he found an abandoned backpack laying in the park. It seemed she had found one after all. Oneshot. Izaya Orihara. Rated T just to be safe.


DISCLAIMER: I think it's pretty obvious I don't own Durarara! or the characters.

* * *

><p>"Miss? Miss?"<p>

The well-dressed woman feels someone tugging at her sleeve. She looks down, and her mouth twitches.

With a click-clack on the street and the swish of her hair, she strides off. Certain she is going to accomplish something in her cubed garden of hardware and the soft glow of text, she steps forward with uncertainty.

The little girl with the green backpack does not follow.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, excuse me!"<p>

The old man looks up. Weathered by age, he holds in his hands drawings of a childhood dream.

"Yes? What can I do for you today?" he asks. The drawings are set aside: slowly, reluctantly. Flushed with excitement, the girl's face splits into a grin.

"If you don't mind, can you draw me a dog?" Her hands hold out wrinkled clumps of money.

"Of course. What would you like it to look like?"

The girl tilts her head back, her eyes widening. "What would I like it to look like?"

The man laughs. "Like what color, or a breed. Is it fat? Skinny? Fluffy, or hairless?" the man says. "You don't have to answer. It'll just make it a little easier on me."

"Oh. If that's the case," the girl said, "I'd like you to make it look like a friend."

The park's fountain erupts in water.

"I'm sorry. There are some things few people can express on paper."

"Like the head of that woman over there?"

"..."

"She's very pretty."

* * *

><p>"Hello...miss?"<p>

A scantily clad woman stares. Her eyes are red-rimmed and watery, with her dark makeup in splotches. Lipstick smudged, she looks like a clown.

"Hey," she slurs, shakily standing up. "Whatcha want from me, kid?" A bottle hangs limply from her side.

The little girl with the green backpack steps back a little. This person reeks of perfume and sweat and other unidentifiable odors. Summoning up her courage, the little girl bows. "I was just wondering..."

"Speak up."

"How many friends do you have?"

"Friends?" The woman laughs although the little girl doesn't know what's funny. "Friends? There aren't any 'round these parts, kiddo." She pats the kid on her head.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Everyone either wants to kill you, do you, or do both."

"What's ...'do?'"

"Well, if any person so much as touch you where you don't want to be touched," the woman muses, "hit 'em where it hurts and run." The little girl waits patiently for a moment, but the woman doesn't elaborate. She'll just have to ask her parents, then.

"So...you have no friends?"

"Sounds pretty harsh, but yeah."

"You know..."

"Speak up. If you keep mumbling, how can I hear you?"

"I can be your friend!"

A pause, and a sigh escapes from the woman.

"You don't want to be."

* * *

><p>"Sir? Sir?"<p>

After a long day, the pizza delivery boy wanted nothing more than to laze around and watch TV. Then again, watching TV fit into lazing around. He sighed, and he looked down.

"Yo." A bemused look crossed over his face. A little girl, alone and wandering the streets of Ikebukuro? He had thought people didn't get any dumber than that. Then again, people defied his expectations every day.

She smiled back up at him. "Yay! You noticed!"

"Have people not been?"

"Yeah. Just this morning, there was this really tall lady who walked past me as if I wasn't there," the girl said. "And after that, only two other people noticed. And after that, no one noticed for a while until you!"

"Oh. Okay," the delivery boy said, scratching his head. "Aren't you supposed to be at home?"

The little girl's grin spreads wider. "See, I snuck out this morning! Dad and Mom were off at work, so they don't know. And since they won't be back for a while, they won't ever know."

"Back for a while? Oh, out of the country," the delivery boy confirms. "Then you don't have a babysitter?"

"I'm not a baby, so of course I don't."

"Hm." The delivery boy is certain there's something less than legal going on, but he's uncertain as to what it is. He does know she should be home, though, so he stretches out his hand.

The girl lifts her head up in confusion.

"At this time, it's dangerous out. Where's your home, kid?"

"I can't go home just yet," she exclaims, and stomps her right foot on the pavement. "I've got something important to do!"

"Your safety is also important!" The delivery boy grabs the backpack. He can see scribblings of an address on there, so...

Just then, the girl delivered a crippling stomp on his big toe. "Ow!" he shouted. "What was that for?!"

"A lady told me today that if someone touched you where you didn't want to be touched, you should hit them and run," the little girl said. "So goodbye!"

He felt bad about not sending her home, but he was also pretty glad she'd missed with that stomp.

* * *

><p>Light from the city lamps fade, and shadows take their place on the streets. Sighing, the girl sits herself on a park bench. She sets the backpack down besides her. "Ahhh..." she groans, clutching her head in her hands. "I didn't find one after all."<p>

"What didn't you find?" The girl looks up at the sound of a voice.

A slender young man, oddly clothed in all black on the summer night, takes a seat next to her. His jacket, fringed with fur, looks even more out of place. The little girl jumps a bit, and then calms down. There's something about him that makes her trust him.

"A friend," she chirps.

"A friend?" the man asks. A grin spreads across his face.

"Yep," the girl said. She unzipped her backpack and took out a thick, worn-down binder. Someday before, the binder had been a spotless white. Now, it was covered in stains where food and dirt had fallen. "Here you go," the girl said, handing it to the man.

Leafing through the pages, he sees a dog repeated over and over again. It's a large, shaggy kind of mutt, with yellowish fur and dark eyes and floppy ears. In many of the pictures, he saw a pink tongue lolling out of its mouth. In all the pictures, it was next to the little girl. The man closes the binder.

"Was he your friend?"

"Yep." The girl nods energetically.

The man tilts his head to the side mischievously. "So why do you need a new one?"

"See, a few days ago, he disappeared. I asked my mommy about it, and she said he was on vacation."

The man laughed. "You know, grown-ups are the biggest liars."

"Oh, I know," the girl said, nodding again. "I think..." She beckons for the man to come closer.

"Yeah?" He moves his head towards her, and she cups her hands around his ears.

"I think he's dead," she whispers.

The man's grin spreads even further across his face, and laughter echoes through the park.

"Hahahahaha!"

Before she realizes it, the lighter comes flying down.

"Oh, this is just priceless!"

The binder is set ablaze before her eyes.

"Stop!" She screams, reaching out her hands. "Stop it! Give it back!"

"Hahahahaha!" He flings the burning binder into the fountain. The flames sizzle and die, and the binder drifts into the pool at the bottom.

Sobbing, the girl crawls over to the fountain and clutches the blackened binder. "Why...Why...?"

"You're so pathetic!" The man exclaims, his face still frozen in a grin. "Look at you! Crying over a dog, crying over pieces of paper!"

"That's...not..."

"Pathetic? Oh, but it _is._ No relationships with animals matter. As a matter of fact, few relationships with people matter," the man says, crossing his arms.

The little girl doesn't bother looking at him. "But..."

"But what? No one cares about your problems. They care only about themselves, kid," he says. "Why else do you think only three people noticed you today? Why else do you think that not even those three people cared enough?"

Trembling and shaking, the little girl quivers on the pavement. The man sighs and gets off the bench.

"Look what you did now," he says, spreading his arms open. "I'm bored."

The little girl does not answer as the man strides off, still laughing.

* * *

><p>"Hey there."<p>

The well-dressed woman kneels down besides the girl. Tears are still streaming down the child's face as her eyes widen in recognition.

"Y-you're the woman from..."

"Actually," the woman laughs, "I don't think we've ever met before."

The little girl sniffs.

"But that's not important. Are you alright?"

The little girl wipes her nose on her sleeve, and a huge string of snot comes off. The well-dressed woman makes a face, but doesn't mention anything about hygiene. "Oh, uh...I see..."

Silence fills the air, and the girl hiccups.

"Well, it's pretty late right now," the woman trails off.

"Y-yep."

"It's uncomfortable in the park in the middle of the night."

"Y-yep."

The woman stands up and offers a hand to the little girl. "So where's your house?

She stares back at her as if she'd lost her mind.

"Well, I've at least got to walk you back home. So what about it?" The woman smiles at the child: a real smile, a warm smile.

Sniffling, the little girl takes her hand.

* * *

><p>AN: I guess that's the end, then. Thanks for reading my first fic! Feedback would be much appreciated.


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